


From Sunrise to Dusk

by deletaed



Category: The Vamps (UK Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Job, Hand Job, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 21:21:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9678299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deletaed/pseuds/deletaed
Summary: Tristan is a tease and Brad has got the moon in his eyes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language. Please, if you find mistakes, let me know. I hope you all enjoy it. Feedback is appreciated!!! :) xxx

One of the many things that Brad likes is his city. He loves walking in the park alone or with his dog, roaming across the streets aimlessly and watching strangers passing by. He adores all the little shops, where he can feel that special atmosphere of an old stuff filled with its history, which everyone would like to know about. The smell of already baked croissants and little donuts from a tiny bakery on the corner is his favourite as well as the smell of fresh black coffee from a neighbouring coffee shop. Together it makes something that Brad calls home, where he willingly returns whenever he can.

It’s already December and a white blanket covers all the streets, making them brighter and cooler. The curly haired boy is walking down the street with hands in his pockets and a school bag on his back. Thursday afternoon seems to be quiet as any other day in the last month of the year. He can see only lots of lights in every window and several Christmas trees and decorations in the shops, which makes the streets festive. At least he can’t forget Christmas is coming. Not that he doesn’t like this winter time, he loves it, but it’s always gone too fast and every magic moment just disappears so suddenly. There will be only a melting snow flooding the streets when this season ends. He wouldn’t protest if winter lasted 365 days in a year. After all, it’s his favourite season.

The thoughtful boy is passing by a music shop, knowing that his destination is next door. Boy’s eyes catch something in a Top 10 stand and he pauses for two seconds, but then turns straight into his favourite place with a thought of buying the album later.

It became his habit to go to the coffee shop almost every day after school. He considers it a peaceful place and probably the best for studying, because there is always only a few people so nobody disturbs him.

When Brad opens the door, familiar smell hits his nose and it causes a little smirk on his face. Right after he closes, he waves at a ginger girl behind a counter who responds back immediately.

“Hello Soph, you ok?“ Brad asks and quickly looks over the coffee shop and to the back corner if his sofa is free, as he is walking towards the counter. There’s only some old lady sitting near the window and a young couple, cuddling in front of his little private seat.

“Yeah I’m fine, thanks. Would you like the same latte as usual?” the girl in her early twenties asks.

“Yes, but can you put there cinammon instead of vanilla, please?”

“Sure. Just take a seat and I’ll bring it,” she smiles kindly and starts making Brad’s order.

Meanwhile, he takes off all his needless layers of clothes and sits on his comfortable sofa. Technically it’s not his but who complains?  
According to him, it’s the cosiest piece of furniture he has ever sat on.

The gentle sound of music, filling up the whole shop, is sneaking into boy’s ears but he doesn’t pay attention at all. Sitting behind the table, he tucks up sleeves on his grey, knitted sweater, revealing too many bracelets in different colours, which cover his left arm and pulls a few text books out of the school bag.

“Here you go,” the girl from behind the counter places Brad’s coffee in front of him and he forgets for a millisecond that he has ordered something.

“Oh, thanks Soph,” Brad says and finds some forgotten pounds in the pockets of his black jeans.

“You’re welcome,” she takes the money and sits on an armrest of the sofa opposite Brad. “Well, how’s school?”

Brad looks at her and raises his eyebrow, “It’s fine, I suppose.”

“You suppose?” She grins and crosses her arms. “I thought you were an honourable student.”

“Well, I mean, I still am but – sometimes it’s just too much,“ he blushes and feels slightly embarrassed.

“It’s all right, honey,” Sophie is laughing, her warm-hearted jingle bell laugh is fondling his ears. Brad notices that girl’s fingers are suggestively fiddling with her hair, “I wanted to ask you something else, though.”

“What is it?” he asks curiously like he doesn’t know what is coming. Brad is fully aware of his charm and that he is an adorable little shit but sorry guys, his schedule for tomorrow is already full.

She bends forward a little, with a gentle smile on her face, “I’d like to know what kind of preparation for hair do you use? Don’t take me wrong, but your curls are overwhelming and every girl could be jealous of them.”

Brad is staring at her. He really was not prepared for this type of a question. He doesn’t even have an answer for this. “Uhm. It’s n-natural,” he stutters. Obviously, she didn't expect this either. Her smile drops a little and she sighs with a disappointed look on her face.

“Never mind. I thought I’d do something with mine, but- it’s okay,” Sophie stands from where she was sitting and returns back to work.

Brad is sitting there, alone in his comfortable sofa with still untouched coffee, so surprised and without words. He doesn’t know if he should be offended that she thought his curls were fake, or that she didn’t ask him to go out. Not that he would go. He wouldn’t.

After a few minutes he is in the same position as before, looking blankly at the darkening street through the window and can’t decide, if he should drink his almost lukewarm coffee, or rather open the books and study. He looks at the clocks and it’s showing half past three. Yeah, he definitely should study. Tomorrow is something like a test from maths, Brad can’t tell. So, that means he won’t pass because he is dumb when it comes to this subject. He decides to choose another book, maths can wait. It’s always better to start with something easier, Brad thinks, but in his case the more he delays it, the better. A history textbook is lying on the table, looking at him expectantly and he can’t refuse. At least, he doesn’t have to do any homework, only to read about the Victorian era and maybe remember some important facts. Opening the book, he sips from his latte and lets his tongue explore that delicious taste. His body relaxes a bit after the hot liquid warmed him up from the inside and he starts to read.

Meantime, the couple sitting in front of him has left and a few people have come to sit, ordered a coffee and enjoyed the atmosphere.

After almost an hour of studying, Brad closes the book and finishes his latte. It’s only few minutes left to a quarter to five and the shop is slightly fuller than it was when he came there.

“Would you like some more?” Sophie asks and takes an empty glass from the table.

“Nah, I’m fine,” he smiles indifferently and turns his gaze back to the books. Specifically to only one book, which is yelling at him the word ‘Mathematics’ from the top of the cover and his stomach tenses, when he realizes he doesn’t have a clue about it and that he is a lost case, just someone kill him already. But whatever, maths is not the most important thing in people’s lives, is it?

Instead of opening the text book, he opens his note book and starts drawing rubbish in it. Brad can think only about tomorrow afternoon when nothing else will matter, just a free weekend with friends and guitars.

It takes him several seconds before he realizes he is drawing a big ‘T’ on the paper, with hearts around. His mind is definitely creepy, he states, nobody is thinking about a person whose name starts with a letter T. Absolutely not.

Maybe only if that person is right here and leaning on the counter. Brad looks up from the T to the counter and, oh god. Oh god oh god oh god. This wasn’t a plan, not in the slightest. There is Tristan standing in all his beauty and it’s getting harder to breathe. The tall boy in a black, long coat puts down a grey beanie and ruffles his blonde hair, his lips forming a little smile while talking to Sophie. Brad’s trying not to be jealous, Tris is just ordering a coffee, for sure. His stomach is doing weird things, like something just exploded inside and now it’s tickling his digestive system. He doesn’t know what’s happening to his body, but it makes him jitter and the heart which is thumping in his ears doesn’t help at all.

He shouldn’t act like this, it was only one kiss a month ago, for god’s sake. And they both were drunk. Well, Brad was less drunk than Tris, to be honest. At least Brad remembers what happened there…

***

_James, his friend from the second year who is also Tristan’s classmate, had a party in cold November and Brad with his friend Connor happened to be on the invitation list. If you’re invited to a friend’s party where would be your crush, would you go there? Absolutely. So, Brad took the opportunity, though he didn’t know anyone in that house except his friend, James, and Tristan. The whole evening he was sitting in a living room with a bottle of beer, staring at the people who were chatting and dancing to familiar music, even Connor was between those people. But he didn’t mind, he was happy for him. Brad decided to get drunk in the kitchen, where James was talking to some girls who were hitting on him. James looked at the boy with a hopeless look and Brad got it. “Hey James, I’ve got something important I wanna talk ‘bout.”_

_Girls turned to him with annoyed gaze and at first Brad thought they wanted to tear off his balls since he interrupted their hunting after James, but then they just forcibly walked away._

_“Thanks, bro,” James sighed with relief and tapped Brad on his back. “Wanna get drunk a bit?”_  
_“Sure,” Brad answered and watched James how he’s filling an empty glass with a pure liquid, then he changed it to an orange juice._

_“Here you go,” James passed it to Brad and made the same for himself._  
_“Cheers, mate.”_  
_“Cheers.” They took it all the way down their throats, Brad’s one was burning as hell. After a couple of minutes his mind went dizzy and he felt happier but also was missing his boy more and more. Yes, Brad’s too possessive._

_“J, where’s Tris?” He asked and tried to get last drops of his drink out of the glass._  
_“Dunno, he might be outside in the garden since I haven't seen him inside,” James shrugged, making one more drink. “Gonna check my friends.”_

_Brad opened the kitchen door to the garden and cool breeze hit his face. It was dark outside and he could see only the dim lights, falling from the kitchen on a wooden floor of a porch. A full moon was stroking Brad’s skin as he looked up and let the cold air fill his lungs. Suddenly he heard a silent coughing from the corner of the porch and turned to that direction._

_There was a blond boy, sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall. Brad recognised it’s Tristan who was looking at Brad with small eyes and gentle smile. “Hey, Brad.”_

_Oh, he knew Brad’s name. “Hi, Tris. Why are you sitting there so alone?”_

_“Nah, ‘M sitting here with the moon and talking,” he laughed. Brad got closer to him, didn’t want to break their personal space. But, damn it. He sat next to him and hissed because the floor was unexpectedly cold. Their shoulders were touching, the warmth radiating from their bodies._

_“And what’s he saying?” Brad looked at Tris, who was staring back at him and due to Tristan’s tired and dizzy eyes Brad could tell he’s rather drunk._

_“Dunno, he’s just there, silent. But he’s pretty, I can say,” Tris stated and Brad could feel Tristan’s cold palm as it was gently fondling the back of his own hand. He was definitely drunk. Brad smiled nervously and looked up at the moon. He could feel Tristan's gaze burning his face. His heart started to beat faster and louder and he was afraid for a second that Tris could hear it, but he just began to laugh a little._

_The curly boy turned his glance to the blond one. “What?”_

_“Nothing, just- it’s crazy, I see the moon in your eyes,” Tris’ smiling with his blue eyes as he whispers, "-and it's fucking beautiful."_

_Brad's cheeks were blushing for sure, but he was too loosened to care, so he leaned forward and tasted Tristan’s lips. At first he was quite nervous if Tristan would refuse, but when he felt boy’s cold hand in his curls and a tongue, slowly trying to get into Brad’s mouth, he calmed down. Tris tasted like rum and cola with a touch of divine dust and his lips were soft and warm. Brad could get used to it. And it lasted not even a few seconds but it felt right, like day and night were kissing, long and languid, from sunrise to dusk._

_It could last longer, but they heard that someone opened the door and a loud music got out from the inside. Both pulled away and turned towards the short person._

_“Brad?” A familiar voice called._

_“Yeah, Con?” Brad responded from the corner, refusing to leave his actual position._

_“Uhm, we should go.”_

_“Why?” Brad asked uncomprehendingly and felt how Tris squeezed his arm._

_“Well, it’s two in the morning,” Con reasoned. Brad really didn’t want to leave the lovely blond boy here like this, but his mum’s gonna kill him if he was late. He was, anyway. Tris let go of his hand, sadness widen in Brad’s body because he had to get up from the floor._

_“Don’t sit here, you’ll be sick,” Brad told him for the last time and Tris was looking at the moon again, nodding. And then, Brad disappeared inside._

***

Brad’s hands are shaking as he’s trying to lift the book in front of his face and pretend that he’s studying. The boy truly hopes Tristan has not seen him yet.

Every time Brad passes by him in the school area, Tristan is acting like nothing has happened. They always greet each other and occasionally have a small talk but he never mention it, so Brad doesn’t know if Tris was too drunk to remember what happened or he’s just ashamed. Brad wishes it is the first alternative.

A pair of hazel eyes from behind the book is following Tristan’s movements and when the tall boy looks over the shop, Brad immediately lifts his book up. When he reveals his eyes again, the boy is staring straight at him with a cup in his hand. Oh shit. Now he’s going to die. Tris is getting closer and Brad’s trying hard not to pass out. He is definitely not hiding behind his maths book.

“Hey mate, why are you hiding behind that book?” The tall boy asks, taking off his coat.

“I’m not,” Brad replies.

“What are you doing then?” Tris is smiling widely and sits on the sofa opposite Brad.

“I’m studying maths,” Brad answers, like it’s not obvious enough.

“Oh, I see,” the taller boy smirks and looks at the table, where he notices Brad’s opened note book full of drawings and small texts. And, of course, the T. Brad almost gets a heart-attack when he realizes, what is the blond boy looking at and he closes it swiftly. Blush is spreading all over curly boy’s face and Tris is still smiling and staring at him disbelievingly. There’s a silence for a moment, the boys are exchanging glances but Brad interrupts it rudely. “Are you trying to seduce me with your smile, Evans?”

“You wish,” Tristan says promptly and sips from the cup, sitting there in his varsity jacket, looking hot. Why, the fuck, not. It costs Brad too much effort to stay in his seat and don’t throw himself on that sitting beauty.

“No, never.”

“It’s a pity, tho. Your curls are begging for it, love,” Tris smirks and cocks up his left eyebrow, pressing the cup in-between his lips.

“Prat,” Brad tosses the book on the table and smoothes those awesome curls but the corners of his lips form into a gentle smile.

“Show me,” Tristan reaches for the maths book, which is lying on the wooden table, and he looks through a few pages. “I was studying this last year. Is that hard for you?”

Brad doesn’t want to tell him he is really silly in everything what involves maths, but his mouth is faster than his brain. “I’m dumb as fuck in this subject and I have a test tomorrow.”

Tris looks at him with amusement, then returns to the pages and studies it a little. Obviously, it’s not that hard for the blond boy, Brad thinks, but for him it’s the worst what could’ve ever happened. He’s watching Tristan’s thoughtful and understanding face, waiting for some advice or whatever. Brad clears his throat and crosses his ankles under the table, accidentally hits the tall boy’s ones. He looks up, interrupted, but leans his feet to Brad’s and closes the book. He’s looking at him for a while, before he starts to speak. “I’d like to ask you something, but hope you won’t be offended.”

Brad is staring at Tristan, eyes wide and furious, since he’s remembered what happened, when someone told him this type of sentence an hour before. “What do you wanna ask? What kind of shampoo do I use for my curls?”

“Well, that would be a good question but my intentions are directed by another way.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Uhm,” Tristan clears his throat and scratches his neck. “Can I help you with it? Only if you want. It’s not that hard and as I said I was studying it last year, so, yeah.”

The curly boy is playing with the hem of his grey sweater, chewing his lower lip. “That’s not a bad idea. But I assume even the holiest God can’t help me.” Maybe only if the holiest God is Tristan himself.

“You’re looking at one,” Tristan says with a smirk as he finishes his coffee. “We can start right now, but this is not the best place for studying maths, is it?” He winks at Brad cheekily and the curly boy is not far from unconsciousness.

It’s already five o’clock and the boys are putting on their coats and beanies so they can go to study probably to Tristan’s house, Brad is not sure. They wave at Sophie before Tris opens the door into the cold evening and both leave the coffee shop. The night has swallowed the day, but lights are brightening the street and make it cosier. Snowflakes, falling onto Brad’s hand, are melting right away as he’s trying to catch them and the older boy is looking at him with admiration. His smile freezes because it’s so cold that they can see their breath but, fortunately, Tristan’s house is five minutes away by walking.

—

“I will never go to that weather anymore,” Brad says angrily while taking off his coat in the hallway.

“Well, you can share the sofa with my dog then,” Tris jokes and hangs their coats up on hooks, then leads Brad to the kitchen. Curly boy would rather share a bed with Tristan, who can probably read it in his eyes, but Brad doesn’t want to be so obvious, fuck.

It seems like every room in Tristan’s house is so big and pretty as well. Windows in the kitchen are huge that they surely lighten up the whole room during the day and everything seems to be so expensive and posh, but at the same time it’s cosy. Brad would spend his life here. And that kitchen island in the middle, he can imagine lots of things done right on that smooth surface involving Tristan, sex and-

“Want me to warm you up, Curly?” Tristan says into the silence which is dominating between them and interrupts Brad’s thoughts, although this question is not helping him at all. He’s afraid Tris reads his mind. But it’s nonsense, isn’t it?

“Tea would be fine, thanks.”

Tristan rolls his eyes at that but says nothing and rather puts the kettle on. He picks up two mugs, yellow one with a smiley on it and another one with Edward Cullen.

“Hope the smiley one is for me,” Brad crosses his arms and stands next to the older boy, leaning against a kitchen counter.

“No.”

Brad can’t say anything and sighs quietly, waiting for his tea. “Where’s your family, anyways?”

“My parents are at work and my siblings- they have music lessons at school,” Tristan’s smile widens as he glances at the boy standing next to him. The silence between them is growing again, there’s only the kettle rustle in the air and it makes Brad anxious, but his thoughts are louder than anything else at the moment. He is so desperately curious if Tristan remembers what happened, or if Brad should just forget it all. He doesn’t want to ruin that something between them what’s called chemistry, at least Brad can smell it a bit or is he exaggerating? These doubts really don’t collaborate with him. His lower lip is already red from biting as Brad doesn’t know if he can start this conversation. Dammit.

“Tris?” the shorter boy starts and Tristan looks up from the mugs and nods, waiting for the second question. “Do you, um-do you remember that James’ party a month ago?”

Brad’s eyes watching the tall boy fleetly. He’s staring blankly at the mugs and thinking. Brad really doesn’t want to ruin it, Tristan is too rare for Brad to lose him. Even as a friend.

The first time when Brad noticed him was at a school concert, where Tris and his bandmates were playing their own songs and he almost fell from a chair when he saw him behind that big drums. And that was it.

“No, I don’t,” Tris answers after a while, but his face is still unreadable. Oh. Brad thought Tris would put more effort to his answer but whatever. He can possibly live with that. He rubs his neck and disappointedly looks down on his striped, Christmas themed socks.

“Never mind, it’s-okay,” Brad murmurs only for himself and makes two steps towards the door where his school bag is lying, when he suddenly feels a pressure on his wrist. He turns his head and looks at Tristan’s hand, question marks in his eyes.

“Who wouldn’t remember that, Curly?” Tris is smiling at him sincerely and, oh god, he pulls him closer. The taller boy’s free hand disappears in Brad’s curls and he forgets to breathe. His throat feels like a desert in the hottest days and he is melting under Tristan’s touch even more. Brad doesn’t know how long they are standing there but it seems like eternity, though it’s only a few seconds.

“Would that be all right, if I kissed you?” Tristan whispers like there’s loads of people around but only Brad is allowed to hear it.

“Just fucking do it, you twat,” Brad’s going to lose his shit, he swears.

Then, the whole world stops and Tristan is kissing him again like it’s for the first time. Tristan’s lips are kissing Brad’s so tenderly he hardly feels them. His small fists curl into balls on Tristan’s chest as he tries to stand on his tiptoes to intense their kiss. The taller boy’s hand cups Brad’s bum while the second one is pulling at his hair, so he could have a better access to his mouth. Brad’s mind is swimming with thoughts of Tris - his lips, tongue, hands on his body, touching, nothing else is more important at the moment.

Tristan’s hands, now both on his ass, sit him on the kitchen counter with boys’ lips still connected and Brad’s muffled sound echoes in Tris’ mouth. He crosses his legs behind Tristan’s back and pulls him closer so their crotches are touching. With his arms thrown around Tristan’s neck, Brad takes Tristan’s lower lip between his teeth and sucks at it until it’s red and swollen. The blond boy groans into Brad’s mouth and pushes his clothed semi-hard towards Brad’s crotch, his fingertips discovering a soft, warm skin under the boy’s sweater.

“We should learn maths, lad,” Tris says between kisses, his voice low.

Brad opens his eyes and breaks their connection, annoyance in his tone as he speaks, “I was dreaming about this moment one fricking year, mate. Maths can wait, this can’t.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So shut up and kiss me again,” Bradley shoves his lips on Tristan’s and starts kissing him more roughly, with lust. He is totally hard and wants Tristan to do something about it, for god’s sake. His right hand slides down Tristan’s chest and belly, lands right on his boner and squeezes it a bit. Tris pants into his mouth and Brad smiles at that, moving his lips from Tristan’s to his jaw and sucks at skin there, leaving small marks. As he keeps moving his lips down, he stops at the vein on his neck, warm and pulsing - something that Brad can’t refuse, so he presses his teeth on that spot, while listening to Tristan’s moans. Tristan’s fingers are fondling Brad’s hips, hungry for the others bits of his skin. He starts to unzip Brad’s jeans, sensation spreading all over his body and Brad, playing with Tris’ lobe, does the same.

“I want to feel you,” he whispers into Tristan’s ear and kisses him on already darkening bruise on his neck. Tristan doesn’t hesitate at all and pulls Brad’s cock out of his boxers. Brad closes his eyes at the touch, he is so desperate and needy and so turned on. He rocks into Tristan’s palm, waiting for his movements. The boy starts to slowly stroke Brad’s hard one and he can’t stop himself from kissing Tristan’s sharp jaw. His left hand is trying to find a way to blond boy’s pants, successfully. Tris makes a moaning sound at the back of his throat and quickens his strokes. Boys connect their lips again, all wet and slack, and then Tristan is trailing a thumb over Brad’s red head, making him dizzy. He’s rocking up into Tristan’s palm again and knows that he won’t last long.

“Tris, I’m gonna-“

And Tris intensifies the pace, his other hand lifts Brad’s sweater up to his chest so he won’t jizz on it. He leans forward and caresses Brad’s nipple with his tongue, clenching it between the teeth and tightens the grip around Brad’s cock.

Then Brad is coming, his vision white at the edges and his body is shivering as Tris licks a cum off the tummy. The breathless boy tangles his fingers in Tris’ hair and pulls him up, looking straight into his blue eyes. Tris smiles and kisses Brad’s lips eagerly.

Bradley jumps off of the kitchen counter, zips his jeans and puts Tris to Brad’s previous position so now the blond boy is leaning against the counter and Brad gets on his knees in front of him.

“Fuck, Brad-“ Tristan moans, looking down at Brad who is grinning at him from below and slowly pulling out Tristan’s hard cock. “You’re so beautiful.”

At that, Brad is licking along his length and over his sensitive head, still holding him with one hand, and takes him into his mouth. Tristan, tangling his fingers in Brad’s hair, is trying not to rock into his mouth but it’s so fucking difficult.

Brad is bobbing his head, a tongue curling around Tristan and spreading heat everywhere. The blonde boy is staring at Brad’s pink, swollen lips around his cock and lust in boy’s eyes, so fascinated by the curves of his cheeks. His own head is spinning and feeling weak and then, Brad makes him see stars. The boy on the knees swallows Tristan’s cum and licks over his tip last time, before he tucks him back into his pants. Brad gets up from the floor, pain in both knees, but it was worth it.

“Was that good?” Brad smiles and stands on his tiptoes so he can give a small peck to Tristan’s lips.

“Great,” Tristan says, his body still buzzing with heat, and kisses him deeply.

“Tris, please, bang me like your drums already,” Brad says suddenly, his eyes shining like the moon. Again.

“Thank you so much for such an offer, I really appreciate that you want me to bang you but another time, Curly. Now you’re relaxed enough so we can study,” Tris responds, giving him one more kiss and leads him to a table.

At that, Brad stops halfway and lifts his eyebrows, “Another time? So that’s a thing now?”

“I’d like to call it a dating, but whatever. It might as well be a thing,” Tris states, but then he’s attacked by Brad who jumps on him with a full weight and Tristan nearly crashes on the floor.

“Are you kidding me, Evans?” He asks, kissing his face. It would be the best thing that could happen to him.

“Nah, just joking, mate.”

“You prick!” Brad furrows his eyebrows, stands on his feet again and hits Tristan’s arm.

“Oh, come here, babe,” Tristan is laughing, grabbing his hands in his own and bends down so he can kiss that adorable curly boy to death, “Of course I’m serious.”

The End


End file.
